


The list

by Castielific



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castielific/pseuds/Castielific
Summary: Once there are no more monsters, the only thing left to fight for is happiness.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	The list

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story a few weeks ago, before 15x18. Now that the show is over, I feel like we all need a happier ending, so here it is. It's sweet and sappy and domestic and probably what we all need right now. I hope you'll enjoy it. 
> 
> It's canon compliant up the beginning of season 15 (no mention of anything that happens in the last three episodes). 
> 
> My wonderful beta underwatertribute is actually busy working on a 45 000 pretend!boyfriends+rich!Cas+homeless!Dean story that I recently finished and should posted on this account soon. I didn't want to bother her with this one shot on top of that, so it's unbeta-ed. Don't hesitate to point out mistakes if you're bothered by them and I'll correct them. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this take of our boys' happy ending ;-)

**************************

"I hate you", Dean grumbles into his elbows. His arms are on the table, his head buried into it as he squeezes his hands over his ears. 

"I think he’s getting better," Sam lies, hiding his grimace just in time so that Dean doesn’t see it when he raises his head to glare at him. 

Dean opens his mouth, but is cut off by a particularly shrill note that makes him feel like someone is drilling right into his tympans. Even Sam can't help but squeeze his fists in pain, crumbling the edge of the book he's trying to read. 

"'This would be good for you, Castiel'," Dean says, imitating Sam. "What about us, Sam? This doesn't feel good for  _ us _ !"

"It's not so bad," Sam offers miserably. 

Yes it is. It's even worse than bad. Dean flinches in pain at every horrible noise that resounds all around the bunker as Cas continues to play - or more like, tries to play - what Dean thinks is supposed to be 'Twinkle twinkle little star' on his newly acquired violin. 

Truth is, it _ is _ all Sam's fault. Dean can't ressent him that much though, because the look on Castiel's face when they went to the music store was worth the torture they've been enduring for the last two days. 

Since God has been defeated, they've all been having a serious case of cabin fever. Heaven and Hell have closed up their doors, angels and demons alike running home with their tails between their legs. Even the common monsters have gone into hiding. Apparently the Winchesters killing  _ God _ has impressed them enough that they've all decided that they better keep quiet. Of course, they're still there, but smart enough not to do anything that might attract the wrath of the hunters. Apparently, they are exceptionally good at hiding when they want to because the only case the brothers have had in the last six months had been a rogue vampire that went on a rampage. He was still young and out of control. It took three hours to take him down, the whole deal was done in less than a day, even counting the drive. 

In short, hunting has become boring. All they've had to keep them busy have been some random salt and burn, nothing exciting. The rest of the time, they've stayed cooped up in the Bunker and it didn't take long for them to go crazy. Each in their own personal way. 

For his part, Sam has gone a little too far on his healthy lifestyle penchant, to the point that it became borderline  _ un _ healthy: Running up to three hours a day and eating nothing but vegetable smoothies. It lasted two months before he realized that all it was doing was giving him diarrhea and making his shins look like basketball. So now he's taken to digitizing and translating every book in their library….which sounds as exciting as getting all your teeth pulled out, if you were to ask Dean, but at least it passes the time. 

Dean's way of coping was on the polar opposite as his brother's: he decided it was as good a time as any to learn to cook better. Dean has always loved cooking and has been having a blast since they found the bunker. For the first time of his life, he has a home and a kitchen of his own. Until now, between the Amara, the Men of Letters, and all that crap with God, he never had time to really enjoy it, limiting himself to the few recipes he already knew: burgers, steak, and breakfast food. With the hunting gig slowing down though, he had all the time in the world to try his hand at more ambitious things like roast, chili, lasagna and way too many pies. 

His personal wake up call came when he tried to put on clothes one morning and couldn't find any pants that fitted him anymore.They hadn't had a case for three weeks, and he had to admit that he became a little too familiar with sweatpants. When confronted with the terrible truth of his every single one of his jeans being suddenly too small, he had no other choice: he spent the whole day dismantling the dryer to find out why it was shrinking all his clothes. Sam had a blast mocking him and Castiel, with his usual discretion, was quite pointedly avoiding looking at Dean's stomach during that conversation. Dean spent a long time in front of the mirror after that. He regrettably had to admit that his stomach resembled more Father Christmas's belly than David Beckham's abs at this point. He started to follow Sam's health routine the very next day. Or, tried to, at least. It didn't last long before he couldn't take the smoothie torture anymore, and decided that limiting his pie intake to two per week and doing some exercise should be enough. 

Sam and him actually came to an agreement on food after that, and while Dean would never  _ ever  _ drink a kale smoothie again, it actually wasn't so bad to add a little more salad to his plate. 

All in all, it was a difficult time for everyone, but especially for Castiel. 

Castiel used to be an angel with a Godly purpose, a mission grander than anything people could even imagine. Then suddenly Chuck was gone, and the angels were gone too, and he just became a puny human with no real purpose, a soldier of God with no God to serve and no war to fight. Easy to say that he quickly joined Dean in his sweatpants' aficionados club. Except where Dean was happy to indulge in a laziness that he never really had a chance to try out before, Cas soon fell into depression. Even the best pies Dean made seemed tasteless to him after a time. He was lost in a human routine that he could find no pleasure in. It came to a point where he didn't even sleep in his own bed anymore, never leaving the couch except to satisfy the most basic needs. Sadly, on most days, showers didn't seem to be considered as one of those needs. 

Once they had their breakthrough about their own miserable situations, the Winchesters decided to tackle their new mission: helping Cas. 

It was Sam who proposed that they should all write a list of things they always wanted to do, but never had time for. 

They took a trip to the Grand Canyon on the very next day, dragging a reticent Castiel along. Their road trip lasted nearly a month, because they kept getting distracted by new destinations. Sam wanted to see the Harold Washington Library, Dean wanted to go to Baltimore to go to the Dangerously Delicious Pies shop he heard about while searching for new pies recipes, and so on. 

Castiel never asked to see anything, pretending gloomily that he used to be able to go anywhere in a flap of his wings, and therefore had seen everything he ever wanted too. Dean dragged him to an amusement park anyway, because he was pretty sure the angel had never been on a rollercoaster before. Dean regretted that pretty fast when Cas became strangely fond of them, saying that it reminded him of flying. They took so many rides that Dean threw up and Sam's nose bled for nearly one hour after. 

Still, it seemed like a wake up call for Cas. He spent the rest of the drive home lost in his thoughts or scribbling a list on the back of a gas station's receipt. He even asked them to stop in Utah on the way back to see the largest bee hives in the US. They ended up buying so many types of honey that they now have a cupboard full of it in the kitchen. 

They had been back to the bunker for two days when Cas declared he wanted to learn how to play an instrument. They went to a music store, where Castiel tried on every instrument from a harmonica to a full drum set. After the obligatory harps jokes, Dean tries to entice him to buy a guitar, and learn all the best Zep songs. Cas was too polite and knew better than to criticize Dean's taste in music, so he chose the guitar. Dean wasn't oblivious to the way his friend kept lingering in front of a black violin though, so he relented and bought that instead.

He's sorely regretting it now. 

It's still totally Sam's fault though, he was the one to come up with the idea of this stupid list in the first place. 

**********************

"I've decided what I want," Castiel declares as soon as the movie's credit starts rolling about a month later. 

Sam snorts, waking up from the doze he'd fallen into. He blinks at them, wiping his eyes tiredly. 

"I said no cat, Cas," Dean reminds. Apparently, one of Cas' item on his stupid list is to get a pet.

"I don't want a cat."

"I'm allergic to animal's hair," Dean reminds him, suspicious. Last night Cas declared he wanted a Camel. A freaking _ camel.  _

"Of course, Dean, your health comes first," Cas concedes amicably. "Although, I do wonder if you're not using this as an excuse, and would not have been amenable to adopt a pet anyway, were it not the case."

Dean scratches under his ear. "What? No. Of course, I'd want one. I love animals. Just, no snakes or anything that eats living food. I know you, and you would just end up saving all the mice or something."

"You know, they do make hairless cats and dogs," Sam pipes up, smirking when Dean sends him a side glare. 

"Those are majestic creatures, indeed, Sam, but I much prefer the softness of fur. Don't you Dean?"

"What." What kind of question is that?

"Wouldn't you like it if you could have a pet with a soft fur that didn't make you sneeze and suffer so much?"

"Huh. I guess?"

"Good," Cas concludes with a jut of his chin. "His name is Honey," Cas announces, raising the kilt that was on his lap to reveal a…

"What the hell is that thing?" Dean shouts, jumping to his feet. 

"Honey is a texel guinea pig," Cas says, cuddling the little beast to his chest. The pet starts emitting a little noise in pleasure as Castiel caresses his fur. It has long curly hair. Its head is black with a white spot on the top while the rest of its body is a mismatch of large black, white and orange spots. 

"It looks like a freaking sheep!" Dean exclaims, sending a betrayed look to his brother that is already kneeling next to Cas and petting at the small animal. 

"See, Sam, we  _ do _ have a guinea pig now," Cas says proudly, making Sam chuckle at what is obviously a private joke between them. 

"We don't have anything! I'm allergic, Cas, remember? My health…," Dean finishes, faking a cough. Sam rolls his eyes while Cas squints at him. 

"I don't think you are, Dean. Honey has been on my lap all night and you haven't shown any signs of allergy. I've looked at you closely to make sure."

"Do you think he likes kale?" Sam asks, taking the little beast on his own lap as he sits on the ground. 

"I think he might, Sam. The internet says guinea pigs need to eat a lot of vegetables. Do you want us to go and try to feed him some?"

"Yes!" Sam declares, squeezing delicately the pet against his chest as he gets up. 

"But-," Dean tries to protest. 

"I bought him a little hammock that he really likes," Cas tells Sam as he gets up too. 

"But I haven't-"

"That's cute! I want to see it!" Sam says eagerly.

"My allergies…," Dean finishes lamely as he watches the two other men leave the room without a look in his direction. He scowls, staring at the beer he's still holding. He sulks for all of thirty seconds before he grumbles. "Dammit, I want to see the tiny hammock too. Guys, wait for me!"

  
  


**********************

"Oh, that's...that's a nice...tree."

"It's supposed to be Sam," Cas says with a pout, looking at his very first painting.

"Yeah no, I mean, behind him? The big woody thing?"

"That's you," Castiel pouts, looking dejected. 

Dean grimaces, inclining his head to try, and identify himself in the glob of paint on the canvas. 

"So you're not Van Gogh," Dean finally declares. "Or Mozart. The important thing is that you wanted to give it a try and you did. If you liked doing it, then that's what matters, no matter the end result," Dean tries to reassure, squeezing his friend's shoulder reassuringly. He learned his lesson when his words about Cas' lack of music skill were not so delicate, and the ex-angel ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a whole week. 

When he looks back at him, Cas has a small smile on his lips and a look so full of...of something, that Dean can feel his cheeks warming a little. Seconds pass and Cas keeps staring until Dean clears his throat, forcing himself to look back at the ugly painting.

"What's next on your list?" 

A hand pulling on his arm makes him turn back toward Castiel. Dean barely has time to react before his friend's lips brush with his. It's so fast and soft that he's left blinking in confusion, wondering if that really happened. 

"This was."

Cas is still smiling, even though Dean recognizes the worried line creased between his brows. The hunter opens his mouth, but doesn't know what to say. To say that he wasn't expecting it would be an understatement. To say that he never thought about it, a lie. To say that he regrets it…

"I liked doing it," Cas declares, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Now I want to ride a horse."

"A- a horse?"

"Unless we can still get a camel?" Cas teases, acting hopeful. He sends Dean a wink - a goddamn _ wink -  _ before he grabs his painting under one arm and leaves the room. 

"Ride a...Wait. Cas! We're not getting a horse either! Cas!!" 

  
  


*************************

When Dean finds him, Castiel is sitting on the bench Dean made from the trunk of one of the trees they had to cut down to make this space into their garden. The sun hasn't set yet, but the end of september's evenings are already colder. The last flowers of the season are blooming, and the vegetables they planted in the spring are starting to wilt, only a few tomatoes popping red among the green and yellowing stems. 

Cas is bending forward, forearms resting on his legs. His eyes are closed and for a minute, Dean is worried that something happened, that he's sad or sick. He's reassured when he hears the low murmur of Cas' words, see the slight smile at the corner of his lips, the one Cas always gets when he's trying to be funny. 

His friend hasn't heard him approaching yet, so Dean waits, trying not to eavesdrop on a conversation he's not supposed to be a part of. 

Dean takes the time to check on the apple trees he planted instead. They're too young yet, too small to give any fruit, but by next year, maybe...He can't wait to bake a pie with his own apples. He rolls his eyes at the thought, that's so  _ domestic _ . Yet here he is, planning on planting strawberries and raspberries, checking on the squash that is starting to grow and wondering if it'll be ready by Thanksgiving. 

Vegetables are Sam's thing. Flowers and the small hive they've built are Cas'. Dean is in charge of the fruits. 

They planted their garden over the underground garage, hidden by such a large ply of trees that there is no risk of anyone stumbling upon it by accident. They had to cut down trees, dig out every root, and plow the whole area to prepare the soil. They've spent nearly all spring and a good part of summer working to create that little bit of garden on the Bunker's roof. They've bought so many gardening tools that they're already making plans to build a shed here in the spring. 

It's nice. The bunker is feeling more and more like a home, like a place Dean could feel himself growing old in, maybe. 

They've talked about buying a house, especially Sam, but somehow they can't see themselves leaving anywhere else than in the bunker. It's their legacy, the place they were always meant to be, and they've come to love it despite all the horrors that happened there in the past. 

Maybe it will change someday. Maybe Sam will want to marry someone, to buy a more traditional place with a white picket fence where he can raise kids without fearing that they'll choose a cursed object or weapon laying around as their next toy. Dean has noticed more and more of Eileen's clothes in the laundry, more of her things left behind every time she comes to visit. He hopes it's only a matter of time before he's not surprised to see her at breakfast anymore. 

By the time he's checked on the fruit part of the garden, Cas has stopped praying and is observing him. The sun is setting, painting an orange glow behind him, and for a second it nearly looks like Cas has a hallo. 

"You told Jack about the horse riding lesson?" Dean asks as he straddles the bench to sit next to his friend. He rubs his hands against the cold, blowing into them to try and warm them up a little. 

"Maybe," Cas says with a mocking smile that makes Dean balks. 

"Oh, come on, you promise you wouldn't tell anyone about me falling on my ass!"

Cas chuckles at the memory of Dean's horse throwing him into a giant mud puddle. Dean had cursed for a whole ten minutes as he struggled to stand up but kept falling right back on his ass. It made Cas laugh so much that he'd started crying. That's a thing Cas does now, he laughs. He does it more and more, and Dean is amazed by it, every single time. 

"Technically, I didn't tell anyone anything," Cas argues with a smirk. He's not wrong. They have no idea if Jack can even hear their prayers now that he's taken charge of and close up Heaven. That doesn't stop them from regularly praying to him, especially Cas. 

"You tell Sam and I'll bury your damn guinea pig next to the tomatoes," Dean threatens. 

"No you won't," Cas says with a fond smile. 

"No, I won't," Dean admits, pouting half-heartedly. He's actually come to like the damn beast. Which no one would actually know if Honey didn't start screeching every time Dean comes near it, calling for the treat that he knows Dean will give him. It was supposed to be their little secret but Honey blew their cover more than once. Dean is still pretending he hates the little ball of fluff, on principle, even though no one is fooled anymore. 

"You were right about the horse, I hadn't realized the amount of dejection it actually produces," Cas concedes. "Also, my bottom is sore from the ride," he adds, squirming a little in his seat. 

Dean chokes a little on his saliva at the image that brings to mind. Honestly, even without the innuendo, watching Cas ride a horse, hips rising and bending over the saddle, has done quite a number on Dean's libido. If he hadn't been questioning his sexuality before, he would definitely be now. Good thing he already was. Cas kissing him has been the only thing on his mind for days now. They haven't talked about it, and Cas is acting like it didn't even happen, but Dean has barely slept since then, spending his nights thinking about Cas' lips on his, and how he might possibly maybe want to do that again. 

"Did you kiss Sam too?" he blurts out. It's not the most subtle or delicate way to bring up the subject, but apparently that's what his brain has chosen to say. Damn you, brain! 

"Why would I kiss Sam?" Cas asks, looking genuinely astounded by the question. 

"Wasn't that on your list?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

Cas squints at him like he's the most idiotic thing he's ever seen and, well, Dean probably is. 

Dean squirms under the stare, rubbing his hands again, as much against the cold as in nervousness. The ex angel gives a long suffering sigh before he grabs Dean's wrists. He pulls on his hands until they're under his own sweater. Dean is so startled that he just looks at the bulge his hands are making over Cas' stomach with wide eyes, not daring to move his fingers. They're nestled between Cas' tee-shirt and his abdominal muscles. It's so warm under there that his skin is tingling from the temperature difference. 

"You're an idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas declares. Dean looks up, and Cas is looking at him so fondly that it makes him blush a little. 

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know."

"I must be one too, because I would very much like you to be my idiot for as long as you would have me," Cas confesses, a little shy as he draws patterns on the shape of Dean's fingers over the tissue of his sweater. 

"I'm not sure, Cas," Dean says, making the other man tense up. "Are you sure you want to be stuck with me  _ forever _ ?"

It takes a minute for Cas to get his meaning, brow furrows intensely before they relax in realization. 

"That was my plan all along," Cas says, his smile so wide it's showing his gums. 

And yeah, knowing Cas, it probably was. Cas would have stayed by Dean's side forever whether he was an angel or a human or even a God. Hell, Cas was ready to stay by his side when Dean was turning into a monster bearing the mark of Cain, and when he was a demon. He wanted to stay by Dean's side even when Dean was cruel and screaming at him to go. It was the irony of it all, wasn't it? It always felt like Cas was leaving him, running away for angel business or whatever, but Dean never ever doubted that he would come back. He always knew Cas would come back somehow. After all, even death could never keep Cas away for long. 

Dean slides his hands a little higher, making Cas shiver as they travel over his torso under his shirt. Dean's fingers tightens around the cloth, and pulls Cas closer, close enough that their noses are nearly touching. 

"And now it's mine too," Dean sworns,resting his forehead against the other man's. He cradles Cas' jaw, passing a thumb under one of his eyes. The stubborn angel refuses to close them, even though they're so close that he's going cross eyed. Still, he keeps looking right into Dean's green orbits and hell, that must mean Dean can't keep his eyes off Cas either

When they kiss, it's sappy and tender and sweet and everything Dean always thought he could never have. The relief he feels makes Dean wonders if it isn't everything he's been waiting for all along, without even realizing it. 

Cas is right by his side, as always, and Dean is damn well going to keep him as close as he can for as long as he possibly can. And hey, he knows the guy ruling Heaven now, so that might just be forever. 

  
  


The End. 

  
  



End file.
